Always
by The Dewed Tulip
Summary: Even with all of this, she would hold onto that word and know that it was truth. Maybe, someday it would manage to save her in the end. Always. /Companion fic to "A Gentle Destruction"/"Sad, but fluffy bonding"/


It was a sunny, summer afternoon in England and Helen Pevensie was strolling happily around the garden of her homely household. She had just finished hanging the washing and getting a certain stain, which looked suspiciously like blood, from Edmund's favorite lion embroidered, white shirt. The eldest Pevensie child had roused them all especially early that morning to attend church mass although Helen would have preferred to stay a bit longer in her warm bed, but as her son had said, "It _was_ Sunday for heaven's sake!". At certain moments, he seemed to remind her of her beloved Frank.

Then again, she thought to herself, had Frank ever actually been dedicated to that kind of tradition?

Had he ever used that phrase before?

At any rate, he certainly didn't act like a normal sixteen year old. He had never acted like a fifteen year old either. By this time, she had thought that she would become accustomed to these oddities that her children had gained through their experience in the war, but they still managed to astound her, especially their elder role model. Helen had thought it perhaps only natural when her son began to search through her husband's study and perhaps reminisce about the years that he had once been living there. However, as he moved his things into the office and effectively mark it as his territory, she began to think that something was odd. He was studying books, philosophical, political and historical alike. They were difficult ones too, the sort that was so heavy that you had to use both hands to heave them onto a surface.

That was another strange detail. Peter never heaved them. In fact, he always seemed to carry them with ease, with a strength that she didn't understand how he possessed. Her boys weren't on a sports team. They didn't partake in rugby or a competitive pastime. At least, not that she had heard of.

In any case, these were the kind of texts that only aged, wizened men took the time to ponder and look over. Frank had certainly never read them. Most of those volumes were pages that had been passed down from his grandfather's bookshelves or collections that he had somehow inherited. Some were just for decoration.

It was very obvious that someone had already claimed their position as head of the house. Susan and Lucy followed whatever he said without hesitation and a respect that she had not seen once used with her. Suddenly, her daughters were hesitant to enter that particular room when she occasionally sent them to fetch a dictionary, explaining very patiently that Peter was working and wasn't to be disturbed. When she asked her younger son why ever he couldn't request that his brother help Susan with her essay, he would respond with a simple, "Pete's in the study".

And, what exactly was he doing in there?

She hadn't the slightest clue. Helen had once thought that it was some sort of coping mechanism, that he was mimicking his father, but this was no mimic. Peter wasn't playing the part of his father. This wasn't Frank. This was a new, advanced, _older _Peter. How it had come to this point, she didn't know. All she knew was that it had all started in that ancient house of Professor Kirke's...

* * *

Within the four walls of the English home, the sounds of shuffling feet and anxious sighs could be heard within one hallway. Susan and Edmund Pevensie sat on an old chest, her indoor slippers tapping the floor.

"Just pout at him and he won't be too cross," the brother whispered into his sister's ear.

The dark-haired girl turned to him in surprise.

"He'd never tell you, but it really undoes him."

She tried to show her appreciation at this little tidbit with a smile. It didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I'll remember."

He frowned at her, worried.

"Honestly, Su, its just Peter. It's not as if he's really going to be cross."

Unbeknownst to their mother, this was not only "Washing Day", but also the day that the eldest Pevensie had dedicated to the purpose of having private meetings between the three people, most special to him, for which he held himself responsible for. In typical fashion, these discussions were held weekly in the study, where each of them could feel free to place any significant topics on the table and put forth their opinions. This tradition had started while they ruled in Narnia, been maintained for fifteen years, paused for one troublesome period of twelve months and finally continued once more. She understood Edmund's concern. It may have seemed like fear was why she was behaving this way. A part of it was too, but that wasn't everything that was wrong with her. There was much more.

"We both know that you're smart and grades aren't everything in the world. You just have to work at it."

"I'll do that," she assured him gently.

She would try; she had to. A small redhead cracked open the mahogany door, her eyes red and puffy.

"He wants you, Susan," she sniffled and settled into Edmund's comforting arms.

She slowly stood up, watching their brother murmur things into her hair, and entered the study of their father. His hands were formed into a steeple and his face was bent down. Susan took a seat in the leather chair adjacent to him, her eyes wide and wary. The look on her face softened him, inch by inch, until he couldn't stop himself from taking her hand in his and kissing it.

"Darling," he began, seeing the unshed tears in her eyes. "I'm not upset with you."

He chuckled a little.

"I was just discussing with Lucy why we can't adopt a dog and teach it how to speak. Really, the ideas that that our Valiant comes up with!"

When she didn't show any signs of finding it humorous as well, he cleared his throat. He softened his tone.

"Don't make a face like that. We're only going to talk about it."

His gaze wandered to the crisp, white piece of paper upon the desk.

"What is this all about? You've always had top results on the exams."

She couldn't debate about that. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his forehead and sighing.

"I know that this whole issue is stupid, but we have to do it. There's no way around it."

She knew that as well.

"We've all had trouble adjusting, but you have to try a little harder. I can't do anything if you flunk out, darling."

He pushed himself forward, so that his hands were touching hers again, and she could see that the mere possibility of it had kept him awake at night. She knew her king almost too well.

"Is there anything that I can do? I know that I could have been there more this year."

No, she didn't want him to visit her. She didn't want him to see her like that, surrounded by those terrible creatures that called themselves girls. That idea terrified her. Again, that was a lie. There was no denying it. The thing that terrified her most was that she knew she was transforming into one of them.

"...Peter?"

He watched every small motion of her fingers attentively as they gripped the leather of the chair.

"Yes?"

She swallowed, hating the fact that the guilt would gradually disappear. She was falling off of a cliff and no one was going to catch her. Aslan knew she didn't have the confidence to save herself. She had always been weak. She was weaker than Lucy, much weaker than Edmund, and most definitely weaker than Peter. The Gentle was still holding onto the hope that he would somehow pull her back from the ledge.

"Would you still love me if I went bad?"

His brow furrowed and crinkled.

"What are you saying? Su, I don't understand-"

"-I mean, _really_ bad. So _revolting_ that you wouldn't recognize me anymore. So _horrible_ that you-"

He silenced her with a swift motion of his hand.

"What brought all of this on? Why are you suddenly saying something silly like that?"

She was going to have to lie now. The thought didn't irk her as it once had.

"My friend has these spats with her family and she's been kicked out of four schools. She's addicted to these bad things and drinks too much alcohol and does all sorts of things. They won't take her back anymore. She has to stay in that boarding school for the holidays."

Susan did have a friend who belonged to a family that no longer wanted her, but that was hardly the reason why she had asked. She was going to be worse, much worse than that poor girl before this was all over. She was going to become a betrayer. He had an expression of amusement on his face and a hand on his chin.

"But, dearest, whatever does this girl have to do with my Su?"

"Well, we were discussing "unconditional love" in class and I thought about her. When we're honest, does it really exist? I wondered...what would you do if I was like that?"

He was silent and frowning for a few minutes more while she sat uncomfortably under his scrutiny. The next thing that he did surprised her. He beckoned to her with a finger and once she had stood he pulled her into his lap. It was then that Susan felt a profound sense of relief; she was not yet so far gone to be incapable of being hugged. She was still lovable. She hoped that this would not be the last one to receive from him. She had never realized how very tired she was.

Tired of losing that inner battle, tired of her mind being conquered by her peers, tired of the swells and surges of this horrible, new life.

Here, in these arms, nothing could touch her.

She was invincible.

"Do you think that "love", I mean real, _deep_, genuine love, is some button that you can switch on and off?"

She simply looked at him and he laughed. That uninhibited sound was infinitely better than every music record anyone had ever given her, every high-pitched giggle that resounded through her dormitory and every song that played at the dance parties that she was invited to.

"It doesn't work that way, silly goose."

He pressed her palm to his chest.

"This isn't something that anyone can remove. Not even you."

How long had she been waiting for this? This feeling of security, that nothing could ever go wrong again, that this world was wrong and _he_, always he, was right.

"I won't love you for a day, a month or a year- ten of them or even twenty."

He kissed her forehead warmly, affectionately.

"I will love you always. Whatever you do, wherever you go and whenever you do become bad, although I highly doubt that you could ever be something like that in my eyes. "

He tipped her chin.

"You will always be my Su."

She could have sighed. She was home once more. St. Finnbar's didn't exist anymore nor any of last year. For the moment, she was Susan Pevensie and nothing else.

"Nothing you could do would change my mind."

Helen Pevensie was just passing by the window with her gardening tools and gazed into it a bit concernedly, her lips pursed.

_"Now,_ get up and send Edmund in before Mum comes and demands to know why you're crying."

Was she really? Susan lifted a finger to her cheek and was startled to see that it was damp. He squeezed her hand as she stood, wiping at her lashes.

"We're all going to be alright and this will all be over one day. You have to believe in Aslan, darling. You'll see."

She didn't see how she would, but she pressed her lips to his cheek anyways and wept once more. As her hand touched the brass knob, going out, a few things were clearer in her mind.

One: Peter would not be able to save her, however much he wanted to. She would sink into the abyss, succumb to the monster inside of her eventually and perhaps forget that she had ever once been "The Gentle Queen" of a land that was too beautiful for her to remember. He would remain magnificent and shining bright, leading the others with him towards those green fields that they so deserved.

Two: The summer couldn't last forever and she would return to her dismal fate. He wouldn't be there to whisper words of encouragement into her ear and she would be alone.

Three: Even with all of this, she would hold onto that word and know that it was truth. Maybe, someday it would manage to save her in the end.

Always.

* * *

OMG, OMG sooooo sad! I'm on the verge of rewriting it to make it a happy ending, but I'm resolved to stay strong. Some stories are just sad...


End file.
